


The Nursery

by andromedacrawley



Series: Filling in the Gaps [7]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Parenthood, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedacrawley/pseuds/andromedacrawley
Summary: "Ah. And why am I being given the special honor?" asked Tom, considerably in higher spirits than he had been a few minutes ago."Because Matthew is your friend," she explained, "and he is bound to slip and tell you sooner or later..." She hesitated, wondering if she ought to divulge anything more, before deciding to do it. "And because you are my friend as well."Mary and Tom have a conversation in the new nursery.
Relationships: Mary Crawley & Sybbie Branson, Mary Crawley/Matthew Crawley, Sybbie Branson & Tom Branson, Tom Branson & Mary Crawley, Tom Branson & Matthew Crawley, Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley (past)
Series: Filling in the Gaps [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812127
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	The Nursery

Sybbie soaked in her new surroundings, blue eyes wide open. Mary held her close, spinning around to let her examine things from every possible angle. "This is your new room, darling," she said quietly. She carried her niece over to the window, letting the sun's rays to touch upon her face. "Do you like it?"

Sybbie didn't answer— which was understandable. She was a baby yet, not a full year old even. She could manage little words here and there, like "Dada", which always made Tom's face light up. It was such a welcome sight after so many months of solemnity.

Mary glanced over to the new white crib, purchased only a few weeks ago. She could hardly wait until it was occupied, already impatient to meet her little prince. Pregnancy wasn't exactly the blissful thing Mama had always made it out to be... but she knew her baby would make it worth it.

"You can stay here with your cousin for as long as you like," Mary murmured to Sybbie. Of course, Sybbie had no say in this— if Tom ever decided to leave, she would go with him, of course, but Mary didn't want her little niece to leave them. She was so sweet already, someone Mary could dote on.

Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Tom had any plans of moving out of the house. In spite of everything, he had adjusted to Downton quite nicely. As the agent, he had found his place amongst them, something to give him purpose besides his daughter. It seemed he would stay for some time.

For that, Mary was glad... and not just because it meant Sybbie would stay longer. She remembered her words to Sybil, about how they would come to know and value Tom. Matthew had quickly come to see him as the brother he never had, staying up late at nights to play billiards and talk with him, even when they spent most of their days together doing estate things. Mary had jokingly asked Matthew once, as he climbed into bed at a late hour, if she ought to be jealous of all the time he was spending with Tom. He had replied, "Of course not. Tom's not as pretty as you, my darling," and kissed her. In spite of him being a husband stealer, Mary quite liked him as well.

Speak of the devil, thought Mary as Tom appeared at the door, peering in. "Oh. You're in here."

"Yes," said Mary as he stepped into the room. She handed Sybbie to him, whose face lit up once she spotted him, babbling "Dada" again. "I thought I would come show Sybbie her new room."

Tom smiled, glancing around. "It's quite nice. You've put a great deal of thought into it."

Mary accepted his compliment with a smile of her own. "It's a way to pass the time, I suppose," she said, sitting down in one of the rocking chairs. Her back was beginning to ache; she wasn't used to carrying this additional weight. "Not as exciting as visiting farms, I'm afraid."

Tom mirrored her, lowering himself and Sybbie into the other rocking chair, a frown on his face. "Why don't you come with us someday? Just to have a look?"

Mary shook her head, hands falling to her rounded stomach. "No... I don't think I should. Not for a while at least." The idea of driving down a bumpy path sounded like torture just about now... and Matthew had become somewhat overprotective, fretting over her constantly. She had a feeling he would be imagining her being attacked by the farm animals the whole time, shielding her away from the pastures. "But thank you for offering."

Tom's eyes now fell to her abdomen, a curious look on his face. Sybbie squirmed on his lap, but he didn't seem to notice. After a moment or two of silence, once Mary was certain Tom was no longer present, she remarked, "You look rather serious."

She watched as Tom was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of her voice, the brief moment where he started and his eyes widened. "Do I? I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies," Mary said gently. He wore a tight, forced smile, there solely for her benefit. It made her rather sad, watching him put on a show when she wouldn't judge him in the slightest. "Though I am curious to know just what you were thinking."

If she had any approximation, she would have guessed it was about Sybil— maybe about how she should be joining Mary here in the nursery, admiring it and complimenting Mary on her taste... or even having some say of her own. A collaborative effort between the Crawley sisters... though if Sybil were alive, Mary figured most of her time would have spent at the hospital instead of the house. Mary was fairly confident that she would have done most of the work in the end, anyway... Sybil wasn't like her, contenting herself with things in the home.

So she was somewhat surprised when Tom sighed before admitting, "I'm worried about you."

She blinked. "Me?"

Tom hesitated before nodding. "I don't know why," he said, but that was a lie. She knew why and he knew why... "But I can't get it out of my head. I hate the idea of something happening."

Mary started. She had never considered how difficult all this must be for Tom... Of course her pregnancy would bring up memories of Sybil as well as his anxieties. In spite of everything, she couldn't help but feel touched to know he cared.

"I spoke to Dr. Clarkson," she told him slowly, hoping to assuage his fears, "and he said it isn't a genetic thing. It's pure chance. If anything, it would be more unlikely if I did..." she trailed off, unable to say it and uncertain if Tom would be able to bear it if she could.

Tom nodded but still didn't seem comforted. "I know that. Logically." He swallowed. "But I still can't help but feel... panicked. At the thought of something happening to you."

Much to her surprise, tears sprang into her eyes. She blamed the pregnancy hormones; she had been falling to pieces over the smallest things. Matthew had been horrified by it at first but now he only teased her when she started weeping over something as trivial as a pair of baby shoes. It was yet another reason she was finally ready to give birth. Thankfully, today she managed to keep them under control. "I'll have him at the hospital," assured Mary.

"Him?" She was surprised that was the word he latched onto.

"It's a boy."

"How do you know that?" asked Tom, adjusting Sybbie on his lap, now giving her an astonished, questioning look. "Can they figure that sort of thing out now?"

Mary shook her head. "I just know." She glanced down at her stomach. "Call it a mother's intuition."

Mother. She was about to be someone's mother. She had only ever pictured the idea in an abstract sort of way, never really picturing it clearly until Matthew came into her life... well, some time after Matthew came into her life, if she were being honest. Before then, she had seen it as a duty she was required to fulfill someday. When she realized she loved Matthew, it hadn't been long before she could picture their children, and the thought made her feel warm inside.

At the thought of her husband, she decided to tell Tom, "Matthew thinks I'm silly or just being overly hopeful, but I really do think it's a boy." She smiled at the thought of Matthew, had been insistently reminding her it might be a girl and not to get her hopes up for an heir. "At any rate, I hope it is. We haven't been able to agree on a name for a girl yet."

Tom managed to chuckle before looking melancholy again. Mary felt her own smile fade. She felt sorry for him... there was no way any of them could know how he was feeling. Thus far, everyone had been fortunate enough to be spared that pain... except for Granny, but Mary had never been lead to believe hers was a marriage of love. Isobel, perhaps, but she wasn't exactly forthcoming and only came over for dinners now and again. "Sybil thought were were having a boy, too," he disclosed, glancing down at his daughter. "So don't rely too much on mother's intuition."

Mary wanted to be somewhat annoyed, that Tom too was now trying to squelch her dreams, but she was more fixated on his mention of Sybil. She had never told Mary that— but she supposed there were a number of aspects of her life that only Tom knew about. Lady Sybil had ceased to exist the moment she stepped on dry land in Ireland... or maybe she had left the old version of herself at Downton the second she left them. Mary remembered being astounded when she met the woman her sister really was when she arrived in Ireland for the wedding. She was much less guarded, less restricted, and fiercely independent. Mary remembered envying her— Sybil was about to marry a man she loved, living her life on her terms, whereas Mary had been engaged to Richard Carlisle and resigned to life of reigning over Haxby with a jailer for a husband.

"What did she want to call the baby?" asked Mary, curious to know, wondering if their preferences were at all similar. In a way, it would make her feel closer to Sybil to know.

Tom shook his head. "She said we would know what to name the baby once we got to know him or her."

Mary couldn't help but feel disappointed... but she knew Tom must have felt rather helpless. Had he known names Sybil liked, Mary suspected any preferences of his own would have been forgone so that his wife could give their child something. It made sense as to why he had decided to name her after Sybil.

The name Sybil suited the baby, in Mary's opinion. Not just because she resembled her mother so remarkably (though Mary saw distinct traces of Tom in her features as well), but because it was a way for her to live on. Little Sybil would grow up and be able to attend university and cast a ballot, accomplishing the things her mother had only ever been allowed to dream about. Mary was certain when she grew up, she would be a force to be reckoned with, considering she would likely inherit the headstrong, impulsive natures of both her parents. She only hoped Tom was ready to handle it when she came into adolescence... though she supposed she could always step in and be of help, when he needed it. There were some things he wouldn't be able to explain or understand, things Sybil would have ordinarily dealt with. Mary had no problem assuming that role, when she needed to.

"Mary," Tom said, voice betraying his uncertainties, "I— Well, I've spoken to people, too. And they told me that even if I'd had her taken her to the hospital, there would be no... there'd be no guarantee."

Mary knew that. She had spoken to more than just Clarkson— namely Matthew and Isobel, the latter having more experience and understanding than the former, who still retained a fair amount of knowledge from his father. They, too, had echoed Tom's warning. The risk of contracting an infection was greater in a hospital, a Caesarean section an extensive amount of trauma to the body... but Mary clung to Clarkson's assurance that lightning rarely struck twice in the same family.

Still, in some ways, it seemed their family was cursed when it came to pregnancy. It almost seemed as though something demanded sacrifice each time a new member was set to arrive. Mama had lost the heir, something Mary was thankful she had been kept away from when O'Brien ran down the stairs, pale and shaken, interrupting her and Papa's discussion in the library with a frantic cry to "Call Dr. Clarkson!" Then Sybil... Mary hoped she would be the one to break this spell, that there would be a healthy mother and a living child by the time she was through.

She wasn't the superstitious sort, but even she had her own concerns, her own worries. She already loved her baby fiercely, wanting to make sure everything would be alright for him. That was why she had taken such care in the nursery, eager to make sure she could give him something, even if she...

Her eyes flickered over to Tom, who had taken notice of her newfound pensiveness. No doubt he wanted to know what she was thinking, but he was waiting for her to answer him. "If something happens," began Mary, hesitant, feeling strange to have this conversation with him, "which it won't— but if it does, will you look after Matthew for me?"

"Of course I will." His answer was instantaneous.

Mary felt somewhat relieved. She hadn't doubted Tom, not for a moment, but it was always nice to have that reassurance. Losing Matthew, she knew, would destroy her. It would be the same for him... and he would need someone to rely on, someone to look to for support. The rest of the family would help, she was sure, and Isobel, too, but Tom would understand and not condescend. There would be no judgement from him. He would truly be able to assist bringing her husband back to their son.

"And... if it's a girl— which it won't be— don't let him call her Mary." Tom's eyes widened. "Please don't think I don't appreciate what you did, naming her after Sybil," said Mary quickly, eyes darting down to her niece, who had settled down. "It's a very good name and I know she would love to be remembered that way. And I wouldn't mind only... only I think it would pain Mama and Papa too much to have a Mary and Sybil running around who wasn't theirs."

Tom nodded, smiling somewhat sadly. "So what is he to name the baby girl?" When she gave him a strange look, he replied, "I only want to make sure your wishes are carried out."

"Tell him to call her Caroline. And tell him I promise to haunt him if he names her Andromeda."

Tom actually chuckled now. "Andromeda?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "I think he's only trying to tease me. It's a joke we have," she explained. "I just would feel so ridiculous, naming a baby that."

"It's a rather fanciful name." He paused before adding, "I like Caroline. It's a good choice."

"I'm glad you think so," Mary said with a sigh. "Now please convince Matthew of that... or better yet, hope it's a boy so we won't be squabbling over what to call her if the time comes."

Tom glanced down at her stomach again. "What is he going to be called? If it's a boy?"

"George," Mary told him, smiling. They had both loved the name instantly... "But don't tell anyone else. We want it to be a surprise."

"Ah. And why am I being given the special honor?" asked Tom, considerably in higher spirits than he had been a few minutes ago.

"Because Matthew is your friend," she explained, "and he is bound to slip and tell you sooner or later..." She hesitated, wondering if she ought to divulge anything more, before deciding to do it. "And because you are my friend as well."

Tom smiled, a smile she knew he couldn't stop himself from forming.

Mary suddenly had a vision— a few months from now, her and Tom would be sitting in these same rocking chairs, their respective children in their arms, happy as they could be.

Everything was going to be alright.


End file.
